


I'm Sorry

by Mistress_Kalamity



Series: My Heart's To Blame [6]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Epilepsy, M/M, Seizure, Seizures, TC Seizure, Tonic - Clonic Seizure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8438422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Kalamity/pseuds/Mistress_Kalamity
Summary: Tom has bad days.Tom has good days.That doesn't mean he's a bad parent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have been adding so much to this series, its insane. Okay, the story after this will be lighthearted I promise, it's just I had these one shots written already and I just wanted to add them before I started on the lighthearted one.

_I knew it was gonna be bad day._

 

Tom wakes up as he normally does. At 6:45, his hazel eyes greet the sun. He looks over at his husband sleeping beside him on his stomach. Arms sprawled out, flat on his stomach hair all over his forehead. He's facing Tom but he's clearly still asleep. Tom sneaks out of their shared bed to shower, get dressed and make breakfast. He usually finishes before Milo and Georg come downstairs. Sasha is his baby girl and he loves getting the little girl ready.

 

Georg enjoys seeing how close to Sasha Tom is. He isn't surprised when he's discovered the pair went for a run or they've gone shopping. Tom's basically spoiled the little girl.

 

“Dad, I need a new pair of sneakers for basketball. Mine are all messed up.”

 

“I’ll look for some while I'm out doing errands,” Tom replies.

 

“Okay! Thanks, daddy!” Tom only smiles as the 14 year old runs out of the room. He is cleaning up the kitchen and tossing out the trash. Tom wants the groceries to be placed in a fresh space. He's been more of a hygiene/health nut since getting the girls. He even changed his diet. He sighs at his work and then sits down. He looks at his trembling hands and takes a deep breath. He's been feeling sick for quite a while. He couldn't tell Georg though, he'd just worry.

 

Tom stands up after catching his breath and goes to Georg's study. He's working on the venue list with Bill and organizing the budget. Tom is proud to see Georg pulling his weight in the band. The brunette finds the business side of touring to be more his forte. He stands behind his husband and wraps his arms around him.

 

“Hey you,” he smiles.

 

“Hold on,” Georg mouths. He ends the conversation and sets a phone conference for tomorrow. The bassist turns to Tom and pecks his lips. Tom smiles into his lips and then pulls away.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I’m gonna go run errands, buy Milo sneakers and give Sasha a walk.”

 

“Alright,” Georg nods. Tom stands up to his full height and waves to his husband. It doesn’t take him too much time to get Sasha ready. She's happily bouncing in her carriage playing with a toy while Tom does the shopping. People keep stopping him to look at the cute baby. He feels some pride that this is his child. He packs the groceries in the car and drives to go get his daughter a new pair of basketball sneakers. It's not hard for him to pick a pair of shoes and he waits while the clerk goes to grab them. 

 

That's when the fog overtakes him. He grips the carriage handle as he teeters back and forth. The absence seizure takes over faster than he can blink. People stare at him, trying to see what took over the man. Most worry because he has a baby with him. 

 

“Sir? Sir? Sir, are you alright?” He can't respond and it skyrockets the worry in the store. He grips the carriage harder when consciousness hits him hard. He blinks and looks at the concerned clerk.

 

“Wha?”

 

“Are you alright? Do you need for me to call anyone?” The kind clerk repeats, worried for the safety of Tom and the child in the carriage. 

 

“No. Uh, I'll just take the sneakers. I'm fine.”

 

“I really shouldn't let you drive. Especially since you have a child.”

 

“I’m fine, really. I have to get this little cutie home and get my groceries home. I'll pay for the sneakers and leave.” The clerk doesn't say anymore and just packs up the shoes. Tom leaves and gets on the drive home, when he notices his car meter. The guitarist pulls into the nearest gas station and luckily it's automated. He goes inside the gas station deli, holding Sasha in his arms, to grab snacks and to pay for the gas. 

 

“Aww, what a cute baby?”

 

“Thank you, just the candy bars, water and a tank of a gas.”

 

“How old?”

 

“She’ll be 1 next month,” Tom chirps. “Say hi, Sasha.” He takes the little baby's hand and lets the kind gas station lady shake the baby's hand. He pulls out his card when a heavier fog washes over him. He starts teetering, swallowing, blinking and sighing. 

 

“That’ll be---sir, are you alright?” He can't respond. Darlene, the clerk, starts to worry about the child in his arms. Tom's leaning pretty far forward and is shaking a little. She reaches forward and gets a grip on Sasha's arm. She pulls the baby out of Tom's arms just as he falls to the floor, a mess of shaking limbs. The clerk exclaims and then grabs the phone.

 

“Hello, emergency services, what's the location of the emergency?”

 

“The VNP gas station in Grove.”

 

“Alright, what's the nature of your emergency?”

 

“A customer walked in, carrying a baby, he's now on the floor having a seizure.”

 

“Okay, where's the child, ma’am? Is the patient still holding the child while seizing?”

 

“No, I'm holding her.”

 

“Okay, I'm sending EMT services right now to your location.” The dispatcher assures her. She sighs with relief and hangs up after being given clear instructions to not hold him down, turn him on his side and time the fit. She hands the child to the second store clerk and does what the dispatcher tell her to. She notices his medical id bracelet which tells her he's an epileptic. She calls the number on the back and soon a very frantic Georg arrives at the scene. 

 

“Where’s my daughter?”

 

“With my coworker,” the clerk explains. Knowing Sasha's safe, Georg bends down to help Tom. He's still convulsing but not as bad as when the seizure first manifested. He wipes up his saliva and draped a jacket over his bucking hips to cover the wet spot. He chokes a little and vomit rushes from his mouth. Georg's never seen it this bad before. He looks like he's dying. The paramedics pull up and take him to the nearest hospital.

 

Georg's holding Sasha in the lobby. Milo is still at school, no need to worry her. Mike's at the house, he can go pick her up and make sure that she gets home safe. Soon, he's allowed in the back and Tom’s crying.

 

“Babe, it's okay.”

 

“I almost dropped her,” Tom whimpers.

 

“Honey, it wasn't your fault.”

 

“How is it not?! I was holding her when I…” Tom trailed off.

 

“Don't think about it.” Tom only looks away from Georg. He doesn't say anything when he's discharged. The guitarist decides it's no longer safe for him to be around the little girl. He always leaves her maintenance and entertainment to Georg and Milo. The brunette notices and decides to talk to him privately about it. He knows how much Tom adored the baby girl. He'd do anything to protect her. 

 

“Tom, can we talk?”

 

“About what?”

 

“You've been avoiding Sasha, why?”

 

“You damn well know exactly why! I almost dropped her. My baby girl.”

 

“Tom, it's okay, someone helped you.”

 

“What if I was alone? Sasha could've gotten hurt. She's not safe around me.” Tom gets up and leaves the living room. He can't take being away from his little chunky princess but until he has a handle on his seizures she's not safe in his arms. He goes about the rest of his day. Milo goes out with her friends, leaving Tom alone with Georg and the baby. Georg is working in the office. He's walking past her room when she starts crying. He looks in and sees that she has a dirty diaper. 

 

“Georg?” He calls. There's no response. He sighs and tries to call again and the same thing happens. With a groan, he goes into the room and picks the child up out of her crib. He lays her on the mat, changes her, and picks her back up. 

 

“There, now my little princess is all clean.” He carries her over to the crib when that heavy fog hits again. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus. 

 

“Geh….mhmm,” he stumbles. His grip on Sasha is loosening. He looks down at the floor and decides to try and get himself down to the ground. He backs up away from the crib and slowly gets down on the floor. He sits Sasha next to him and he lays down. At least she's safe. The fog gets thicker until he hears everything as if it were underwater. Tom rolls onto his side and tries to meet Sasha's blue eyes. 

 

“D….Dada?” The 11 month old watches in horror as her father convulses right in front of her. She doesn't touch him but she does start crying, screaming loudly. Georg hears the screaming and runs up the stairs as quickly as he can. Tom is still convulsing and Sasha's crying her head off next to him.

 

“Shit,” Georg curses. He picks the little girl up and carries her to Milo’s room. He hands the little girl a Teddy and closes the baby gate on his way out. He gets back to the room and Tom's stopped seizing. Georg doesn't have to do anything but wait for him to wake up. He smiles because Tom was able to fight it off long enough to get Sasha to safety and himself.

 

Tom's hand twitches in his grip, Georg could feel that he's moving. He gently places his free hand on Tom's side to prevent him from sitting up just yet. “....Geh?”

 

“Shh. You had a seizure, just relax. We'll get you up as soon as you've fully come to. I can see you're still a little confused.”

 

“....Sas?”

 

“She’s fine. You got her to safety before you had your seizure.” Tom's eyes close as he breaths heavily on the floor. He grabs the baby towel off of the crib to wipe Tom's mouth. He groans a little when the fabric swipes over a small cut on his lip, his teeth bit down hard on it.

 

“I’m gonna get you up, out of these clothes and into bed, okay? Are you with me?” Tom squeezes his hand and coughs a little as a response.

 

“Okay.” Georg helps Tom up to his feet and gets him into the bathroom. The younger male feels a little embarrassed to be changed by his husband. It’s always humiliating for him. He'd never say that out loud. Georg doesn't need to know that. His eyes deviate from his husband's until they land right on the space between his thighs. He couldn’t stand that as a grown man, he is incapable of dressing himself; incapable of taking care of himself. 

 

“Babe, is everything okay?” Georg asks. Tom doesn’t speak. His mouth hurts too much and so did his body. His brain, however is the most full. Georg didn’t fully understand his husband or his thought process. He normally was talkative and cheery but when Georg looked up at him from helping him put his socks on, he didn’t look like Tom. He looked like a depressed grown man who’d much rather be left alone to sulk. 

 

“Want me to leave you to sleep after this?” The brunette asks as he stretches to his full height. Tom nods and tiredly lays down on the bed and cuddles his pillow. Georg pulls the blanket over his shoulders and goes to kiss his cheek when Tom starts crying. 

 

“Oh babe, what’s wrong?”

 

“I...can’t….do this, Gee,” Tom sobs.

 

“Do what, Tom?”

 

“Be a parent. I can’t….I can’t be a parent.” He whimpers. Georg sits down on the bed next to Tom and rubs his arm. He hates when Tom starts to get self deprecating. He gets just as hard on himself as Bill would only worse because he lets that shit boil until he can’t anymore. Georg pulls the blanket away and pulls a hysterical Tom into his arms. He didn’t want to baby him but between the postictal confusion and his rush of emotions, he didn’t want Tom to make himself sick again. The brunette kisses his forehead and then massages his back with his free hand.

 

“Tom, you can be a parent. I know it’s hard but believe me, it’s not your fault. Epilepsy is unpredictable and we just have to learn to adapt to it.”

 

“Georg, I am so sorry that you’re stuck with someone like me. You shouldn’t be with me. You should be with someone who’s better at being a parent and who can raise your kids right.” Georg pulls Tom away from his chest and looks at him. The crying male is not his Tom either. Tom isn’t someone who’s afraid to be himself. Tom is a good father who loves his daughters. He’s a good brother, who would do anything to protect his family. He’s just a good person. His epilepsy is the one who shouldn’t be with him. 

 

“Tom, look at me, I know you feel alone. I know you think you aren’t a good father but the girls would tell you otherwise. There’s so much you do for them. You are a way better parent than me. You know how to deal with Milo’s activities in school, you support her and buy her awesome sneakers. Sassy adores you and she likes you way more than she likes me. You’re her dada,” Georg rambles. “Don’t worry about having a seizure in front of your daughters. Don’t worry about hurting your daughters because you proved today that you can handle it. You were holding Sasha when the aura hit and not only did you get her to safety but yourself as well. Tom, what I am trying to say is, you are a great father and that’s the bottom line.” Tom looks up at his husband with tears in his eyes and he instantly felt better. Georg is right. He didn’t give himself enough credit. He balanced the band, two daughters, and his epilepsy all at once. He should be lucky he didn’t get burnt out sooner. Tom didn’t realize how exhausted he was until Georg mentioned all the things he did around the house. He thought of how he awoke at the same time every morning and did the same amount of work each day, whether it be running errands or practicing for the upcoming tour. He just felt that his epilepsy often took over too much. He leans more into Georg until soft snores are escaping his nose. Georg lays down with Tom, not tired himself but more as comfort for his husband. The door creaks open and Milo walks in holding Sasha.

 

“Hey, pop, want me to just feed Sassy and put her down for a nap?”

 

“That would be great actually, thanks sweetheart,” Georg sighs. The teen walks out of the room with the small child and Georg turns his head back to a sleeping Tom. His hands are pressed up against Georg’s chest and the warm air escaping his nostrils tickles Georg’s chest a little. He didn’t care that Tom is knocked out on top of him, he’s just glad that Tom’s asleep. The younger male overworks himself so often that Georg loves watching him sleep. In the silence, Georg starts to cry.

 

“Tom, I am so sorry that you have to deal with this. I promise you that one day, you will be cured and when it happens, I promise to be there every step of the way of your new life,” Georg whimpers and then kisses his forehead.


End file.
